Sincerely, An Ugly Chicklet
by Scarabsi
Summary: On the way home from school, a young boy who is NOT a music geek but merely someone who APPRECIATES music discovers a message in a bottle that would become his best, faceless, friend. "To whom this may concern: You're reading this, so you must be the kind of person who gets interested in a little bit of mystery. I'm really glad you decided to give this mystery letter a chance."
1. Pilot

**Headnotes:** This is a long story I started working on a while ago, and though I've had a hard time trying to continue it I desperately want to try to finish it, or at the very least write more of it. I'm quite proud of the story, in a kind of guilty way where I'm possibly the only person interested, but I don't care and it's very dear to my heart. Hopefully putting it somewhere where I'll have to actually be responsible for it will help encourage me to get over myself and actually write more of it.

**Warnings:** I've heard people express discontent on the way I named the characters. I'll say so right now, the main character is Austria, and in this story his name is Auster Reichenbach (after the Austrian name for Austria, Österreich). It's an alternate universe, so they aren't all named with country names, and they don't all follow the common naming convention from the fandom. If this bothers you a lot, you should probably not read this story. Sorry, but I'm not going to change the names. I'm writing the story for me, not for you.

(Some of the names, like Antonio and Francis, remain the same as the accepted fanon. Some, like Romano, are the same as in canon.)

* * *

**Sincerely, An Ugly Chicklet**

* * *

_To whom this may concern:_

_You're reading this, so you must be the kind of person who gets interested in a little bit of mystery. I'm really glad you decided to give this mystery letter a chance._

_I'm twelve years old this year, and starting sixth grade. Middle school was a big deal all summer because I thought I could meet a lot of new people and make a lot of new friends, but it's been about a week and I don't think it's going to happen. I thought, maybe if I can't make real friends at school, I can have a mystery friend as a penpal?_

_This is where you come in. I mean, you're reading this letter, so you're okay with reading things from someone you don't know, right? It's really easy, all you have to do is write a letter back. You don't have to tell me anything about yourself if you don't want to. I don't want to tell you much either, in case you go to my school and change your mind because you know me._

_I'll check back here every day looking for a new reply. Leave the red ribbon inside the bottle if you write back, so I'll know. Please at least think about it._

_If you do decide to be my anonymous friend, I'll love you forever. I hope you can grow to like me for who I am._

_Sincerely,_  
_An Ugly Chicklet._

_._

This must be my fifth day walking home from school. I don't understand why I still can't remember where to go.

I was pretty sure I turned at the big corner house with the fountain yesterday, but I don't recognize this area at all. Each house I passed got fancier and weirder, like each architect came from a different country, or a different time period.

My pack was getting heavy, because carrying weekend homework for an hour of walking is really unpleasant. I thought about stopping somewhere to take it off and rest, but I would be late enough home as it is, and my father would definitely be angry. It's times like this I really wish I was old enough for a cell phone.

Down the road, I could see a park area, and a big sign. It looked like a kind of map of the city, probably for the tourists who sometimes liked to visit. I rushed to it pretty eagerly.

Sure enough, it was a map; even better, it had a dot labelled 'You are here.'

I got excited, put my finger on the dot, and looked all over the area and the map. . . but I couldn't tell which direction was which. _There_ was my house, /ihere/i was here I was; did I come from that direction, or was it the other way?

Something caught my eye; there was a drawing of my school. The labelled dot was so close to it! I compared the map and my surroundings again, and then let out a huge groan. All this time, I had only walked in a circle. I was at the park right behind the school gym.

Angry, I threw my pack down and sat down on the bench behind the map. Why couldn't my father drive me home? It only took ten minutes to drive from school to home. Surely he could spare ten minutes from work! I should have gone home with Licha and Hervey, if only Hervey wasn't so mad at me that it would still be worse than this.

Something was glittering from the nearby tree. I squinted up at it; what was that?

When I went to the tree to investigate the glint, I found it was a bottle, hanging from a branch by a flashy ribbon. The ribbon was tied in a really pretty bow around the neck of the bottle, and it curled at the ends.

It looked really weird. Maybe it was from a party of some kind? I looked around the other trees, but they all looked normal; one had an old kite in it, and another had a pair of decaying shoes, but there was nothing weird about that.

I stood on top of the bench and reached toward the tree, hoping to get a better look. It was surprising; it actually seemed like there was a piece of paper rolled up inside. There was writing on it.

I tilted my head and touched at the bottle to make it stop spinning. The ouside of the paper roll said: **READ ME**.

I quickly grabbed onto the tree branch, afraid I would get dizzy from surprise and confusion and fall off the bench. I looked around again, but the only people around were joggers with their dogs, and a few little kids. I looked at the bottle again.

The best thing to do would be to ignore the bottle, turn around, and walk away. I should be asking someone for directions home. If my dad got home before I did, I would be in big trouble.

I couldn't stop looking at the words, though. _READ ME_. It was drawn in a nice, fancy font; it looked like someone had really put effort into making it look good.

And, a little embarrassed, I thought about the book I had read a few weeks ago - _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ - and couldn't help thinking I might find an interesting adventure of my own if I investigated the mysterious bottle.

I found myself reaching for the bottle with my fingertips, eventually managing to slide it toward me by pulling down the tree branch. The ribbon was really pretty.

I slid out the mysterious paper and unrolled it. It was a letter; it looked like it'd been printed from the computer. _To whom this may concern,_ it began, and I was hooked; how many people actually bothered to begin a letter that way?

I sat at the bench and read through the whole letter, then dug through my pack for my pencilcase. I thought about writing on the back of the letter, but decided I wanted to keep it for myself; besides, I didn't want to write over the nice **READ ME** script.

I left the ribbon inside the bottle, as instructed, and slipped my quickly-written letter inside it. I looked around; where could I put it? I couldn't hang it back if the ribbon was inside. I settled for balancing the bottle on top of the tree branch, and hoped it wouldn't fall and break, and that the writer of the letter would be able to find it later.

Then I stopped one of the joggers and asked for directions. After she good-naturedly agreed to escort me, I ran along home, heart filled with excitement.

There was someone out there like me! Someone lonely and quiet and scared of starting middle school without many friends! I wanted to go home and memorize the route to the park so that I could go back over and over during the weekend.

.

_To the one who thinks s/he is an ugly chicklet:_

_Hello. I am very impressed with your great presentation. Like you, I started sixth grade this week, and I am having trouble getting to know people. I am eleven years old, but I will be twelve soon. I really liked the ribbon you put on the bottle, it is very pretty. The words you drew on the paper were very nice, it looks like you are very talented._

_I am really looking forward to having a penpal. Sorry about my bad handwriting. I only have a pencil and binder paper and this bench to write it on. I would have taken time to type it the way you did, but I wanted to write to you as soon as possible. I hope you don't mind._

_I can't wait to get to know you. I already think you are a very interesting person. I will be checking this spot as much as I can over the weekend, hoping to see a reply from you._

_Sincerely,  
Aust_

_Wait, should I make up a pen name like you did? I feel like I should, but I don't want to seem silly. I am not sure I can think of a clever one right now. Yours is pretty clever (I think the story is about a duckling, though, not a chicklet), so I want mine to be clever as well. I'll use a stand-in one for now._

_Sincerely,_  
_Piano Man._

_P.S. Maybe we should leave the bottle in a more secret place. I don't want someone to throw our letters away, or read them. How about you put the next letter in the knot on the big tree? I'll look for it here and there, so take your time deciding._

_P.P.S. Sorry for asking you so many questions right away. I am just really looking forward to this. I hope you are not put off by my_

_enthuziaexcitingness excited-ness. Also, I promise to buy an eraser._


	2. A Weekend of Letters

**Headnotes:**Because this entire chapter is letters, I have left only the first line in italics, in order to save your eyeballs.

* * *

_To the one who temporarily calls himself Piano Man,_

It's super nice to meet you. I actually couldn't believe my eyes when I went back to the park earlier and saw that someone had read and replied. I don't think anyone has ever said that they wanted to get to know me. I guess letters are way more amazing than people realize.

I'm glad you liked the words. I wanted to make them stand out, you know, so that people would know it's okay to read it. And even better, it seems like it worked. I see I am talking to someone who admires good workmanship, and my father says that's the mark of a reliable personality. In case you don't know, from my father that's the number one compliment.

You don't have to use a pen name if you don't want to. I wouldn't mind if you used your name, but you don't have to of course. I want to get to know you even more than you want to get to know me. Do you have any brothers or sisters? What kind of things do you like to do for fun? Do you like to play piano, since you temporally called yourself Piano Man? Are you happy or sad, and why? Tell me anything you want.

Also, it's not a duckling, it's a chicklet. My father told me that story all the time when I was little, and it wouldn't make sense with a duckling, since why would someone buy a black duckling? Maybe you should check up on your stories better. I don't want to be rude to my new awesome friend but you said it first.

I hope I can find the big tree you mentioned. It does seem like a better idea. I guess I'll put the bottle there from now on. You can see if I wrote something because I'll tie the ribbon in a bow.

Sincerely,  
An Ugly Chicklet.

.

Dear Ugly Chicklet and not a Duckling,

Where do you get your patience to go all the way home to type the letters and come all the way back here later? It takes me forever just to get to this park. Since it seems you do not mind so much, I think I will just bring a clipboard and write my letters by hand from now on. Maybe I will use my left hand so you won't be able to recognize my handwriting in other places. I think you may be surprised, but I can write with both hands. It was part of my personal piano training.

I do play piano, since you asked. I've been playing piano since I was four years old. A lot of my classmates hated piano, but I am not doing it for my parents like they are. I also play the violin and the viola, and I just started learning the flute and cello. Do you play any instruments? What is your favourite instrument?

You talk about your father a lot. You must be very close. What happened to What about your mother? You do not need to tell me if you don't want to.

You seem very confident about the chicklet story. We might be talking about different stories. I don't know what you mean about a black duckling, it turned into a swan, like in the Swan Lake. Maybe my mother changed the story because she wanted me to watch the ballet. I will check up on the story the next time I visit a bookstore.

It's getting late, I spent so much time writing I will be late home again. Sorry for the sudden ending. Please respond soon!

Sincerely,  
Piano and Violin and Viola and Flute and Cello Man.

.

_Dear Music Geek,_

It's easy for me to go there a lot because I bike to the park in the morning and in the night as part of my daily exercise. I wouldn't mind at all if you wrote letters on the spot, in fact it's good for me because it means you'll write letters faster and we can talk more. I would do that too, but I can't write with my left hand like you can and I really don't want you to recognize me at school. Do you go to the middle school next to the park? Since it's so close by, it seems likely. Although I hope for your sake you don't, because you won't believe how mean some of the classmates can be.

You play a lot of instruments! I didn't even know it was possible to play so many. I know a kid who's really into the music stuff too, but he can't play any instruments, unless you count his voice. I can't even imagine having to handle all those. I started learning guitar not long ago, but I'm not very good yet. That's about it. I think I should clarify that I think you're really amazing to be able to play so many things. You called me talented before, but the talented one is actually you, you know.

I spend a lot of time with my father, and my brother, that's why. I don't know much about my mom because my father say she was a soldier. It's one of those adult code-words, I think it means they were never married. Don't worry about it, I never even knew her.

I am very very confident about the chicklet story. The Ugly Chicklet is my favourite story. I would draw pictures of it all the time when I was little so that my father would see them and tell me the story again. I'm trying to understand how your mother could have worked a swan into the story, it just wouldn't make sense. Do swans even grow here? What did you mean about ballet?

Sincerely,  
An Ugly Chicklet.

.

Dear Ugly Chicklet,

Please don't call me a music geek. I am a music apreshiater. Music is wonderful and beutiful. If we ever met, I would show you some of it so you could understand what I mean.

It's very nice to hear that you are learning guitar. If you study music more, I think you will find that it is a great way to express the way you feel. Every time I master a piece of music, I feel really happy. Do not worry if you feel you aren't very good. As long as you practice a lot and really like what you play, improvement should be automatic. I have thought about learning to sing, but since I am a boy, it would be wasted when my voice changes and I would have to throw my training away. Perhaps when my voice is already changed, I will learn it too. It sounds very fun to carry your musical instrument everywhere you go.

I think I have only heard of fathers being soldiers. Your father appears to have a sense of humor. My mother died a few years ago, so I miss her a lot. I can't imagine having never known her, it's too sad.

Seeing you talk about your brother reminds me that you asked me about my family. I have a father, but he works all the time so I don't know him well. I used to have a little sister, but she moved to my cousin's house when my mother died. There was some complicated adult reasons for that, like for you, and I don't understand what happened. I visit my cousin a lot, though, so I still see my sister. She seems happier there, which is what matters.

My father took me to the bookstore today, and he let me buy a tiny picture book of the Ugly Duckling story. I will leave it in the bottle for you to read, since that is probably easier than explaining the whole story to you myself.

The Swan Lake is a famous Russian ballet composed by Tchaycowsky Chaicoversk Tschaikow a famous Russian composer that you should know because everyone knows his name even if it is impossible to spell. He did The Nutcracker and Sleeping Beauty, which are a little more famous, so maybe you heard of those. If you get the chance you should go see it, it's really good.

Back to school tomorrow. It looks like I go to the same school you do, down to the mean classmates. Let us hope we can both get through the day intact.

Sincerely,  
Music Apreshiater.


	3. back to school (sigh)

_Dear Music 'Apreshiater,'_

_My spell check actually says it's "appreciator." I'll just write that here for your future reference._

_I'm sorry about my last letter. I guess I was starting to feel familiar with you, and might have acted a little too familiar. I never meant to hurt your feelings in any way, and if you were hurt by the things I said, please know that I didn't mean them in a bad way. Also, I'm very sorry to hear about your mother and sister. I shouldn't have brought it up._

_I haven't heard of the Russian composer you were talking about, since I don't know much about ballet. I'll ask the singer kid about it the next time I see him, though, and maybe he will know about it. I'm making a little note on my wall to see it if I get the chance._

_I'm also not looking forward to school tomorrow (it's today for you, right?), but as long as we hold our chins up, we'll be fine. We can be there for each other in spirit._

_Anyway, I read the book you gave me. It is a very good story, though a few parts of it are completely different. It looks like my father was the one who changed the story for my sake. I still like his version better, though. Probably because I grew up with it._

_I will leave you one of my Ugly Chicklet drawings, as thanks for giving me that nice book. Since I'm drawing it now, of course, it will be way better than the drawings I made when I was little. I hope you like it._

_Please don't be mad at me. I will be a better friend from now on._

_Sincerely,_  
_An Ugly Chicklet._

.

I was so happy when I saw the little drawing sitting at the bottom of the bottle next to the letter. The chicklet looked so lifelike, I was actually worried for a while if it was suffocating inside the bottle. When I got home, I would put it in a frame and place it on my piano, so it could watch over me while I played tonight.

I didn't have time to read the letter before school started, so I folded it up and put it in my pocket before rushing to class. Thankfully, the layout of the school is straightforward, and there were still kids from my class walking into our classroom that I could follow.

As always, I sat at the desk in the front and center of the classroom. As other kids came in, they filed into every other desk except mine; as I understand it, the front row was for snivellers and people who couldn't see. The seats in the center of the classroom were considered cannon fodder for the teachers' attention.

I ducked my head while I tried to think of a way to sneak the letter out without anyone else seeing it. I didn't sit in this desk because I wanted to gratify the teacher, but simply because I could see the board better and hear the teacher more clearly. I couldn't understand why my classmates were so averse to a better education, but then, I'm also the only kid sitting at a desk by myself.

The empty seat next to me seemed to blow cold air at me. I thought about tucking in the chair, but didn't want to discourage anyone else from sitting down. I'd made a mistake like that on the first day of school.

"Hey, this seat in't taken, right?"

I looked around, wondering which other seat was still open.

"Hey, four-eyes. Over here. Can I sit here?"

Someone snapped their fingers close to my ear, and I jumped, bumping my knee painfully on the desk. There was a kid leaning over it, a hand on the chair and a hand on the desk, like he was about to sit down.

Normally I would have let him sit down right away, but I was too busy staring. His hair was a mess. It was cut so close to his head in some places and left long in chunks in the back, all hacked at with a distinct lack of accuracy. The hair particularly stood out because of his crisp new school uniform.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Well, there in't anywhere else to sit right now, so's you know." He tosses his pack by the desk and sits down next to me.

I found my backbone. "D-do I know you?"

He shrugged. "Probably not, since I've been home sick all of last week and all. Call me Magnus." He held out a hand, and I stared at it.

"You shake it," he prompted. I shook his hand. He looked more and more amused at me all the while, like I was a particularly funny show. "Do I got something on my face?"

"More. . . more on your head, I'd say. . ."

"Ah! You like it?" He ran a hand through the chopped mess of hair, and I fought the urge to cringe. "Yeah, did it myself this morning. You know how it gets when you're sick a long time, and your hair gets all long and gross and whatnot. Would've been a disaster showing up at my first day of school like that, right? Imagine the first impression I'd make."

"Yeah, imagine," I parroted after him. I swallowed. "You couldn't go see a hairdresser?"

"Oh, sure, my dad'll probably take me to one after school. You should've seen the look on his face when I came down for breakfast this morning." He gave me one of those little friendly punches on the shoulder that I sometimes see other kids do. It hurt. "What's your name, anyway?"

I was afraid for a second that I wouldn't be able to remember. "Auster."

"Auster what?"

I frowned; it wasn't like he'd given me his surname. "Auster Reichenbach."

"Austerreich and Bach! That's a nice name you got there," and he was just laughing and laughing.

I could feel my face grow hot. To tell the truth, I had always been kind of pleased that I had Bach in my surname. When this kid puts it that way, I started to feel differently. "There's nothing wrong with my name," I said, lowering my voice in case anyone else listened to my conversation.

It was a good thing too, because the teacher walked in then, and everyone in the room fell silent. The teacher scanned the classroom skeptically, and started a review of what we had covered last week.

The kid. . . what was his name? Magnum? Maggis? He elbowed me descreetly in the arm. "Hey, don't take it so hard, I'm just playing with you. You're kind of neat, accepting the new kid so quickly. I appreciate it."

I pursed my lips shut and took out my notebook. I already had notes on this subject, because we had covered it last week, but it was always good to be safe. "It's the second week. We're all new kids," I whispered at the last second, despite my better judgement.

The grin that spread on his face was blinding. Whatever his hair looked like, his teeth were most definitely in perfect order. "Thanks," he said. Then, "you got a patch sewn into your uniform."

I watched the teacher warily, but she was writing on the board and didn't turn around. I ripped a corner off my notebook.

_I bought my uniform second-hand. Waste not want not._

He passed the note back rather discreetly, to my surprise. Even more surprising, he had a neat, round hand. _Uniform's optional, you know._

I looked at him, and he was sniggering. I rolled my eyes.

_Even if I didn't know, I could see by looking around the classroom. I like to think they add to the educational experience and re-enforce the idea of dissipline._

I got an entire sheet of fresh binder paper in return. _Is that why youre wearing it? I just like the way they look. (Also, we ran out of space so I got a new paper.)_

I looked at him again; he had angled his head to the light and pursed his lips in a ridiculous, exaggerated way, looking like a horrible underwear model from a magazine. I had to hold back a laugh.

_Sorry, what was your name again? I can't remember._

_Call me Magnus._

_Can I ask 'Magnus what?' like you did?_

_Sure you can! Bet you can't pronounce it, though._

"What are you doing, Auster? Are you sharing notes?"

It was hissed into my ear at close proximity, and I recoiled from the voice. I turned in my seat to look at the speaker.

It was Preston. I wanted to hide my head inside my jacket and disappear. "No. It's nothing. Pay attention in class, Preston." He scowled.

The thing about Preston was, he was really scary. On the first day of school, he walked up to me out of the blue and tried to push my backpack out of the chair I had put it in. Then he sat in the desk next to me and glared at me all day. It was especially scary because his hair and skin were completely white, and his eyes were dark red, like blood. He looked like one of those monsters from a horror movie, or the bad guy from an action-adventure movie.

Whenever I participated in class, he would make fun of me, asking me things like why I ever bothered to put my arm down, or what I was doing in sixth grade if I was so smart. During recess or lunch break, he would hang around the classroom door, looking at me like I had done him a great wrong by being alive. On top of that, he spoke out of turn constantly and often blurted out answers to the teacher's questions without raising his hand, and always made very loud comments on every little opinion in his head.

I started to turn back to my seat, but he leaned over his desk to hiss at me again. "You're passing notes and telling me to pay attention in class? Isn't that hypocritical?"

I leaned away from him; if anyone asked, it was because I didn't want to get in trouble if the teacher caught him talking to me so obviously, but the real answer was that his eyes seemed to get redder then. "Please stop," I whispered.

Magnus looked from me to Preston, and then tapped Preston on the shoulder. "Is there a problem?"

Preston stared glassy-eyed at Magnus's hair; I guess I must have looked like that earlier. "Whoa," he said.

Magnus seemed to take this as a compliment, preening like a sated cat. "Thanks, I did it myself," he bragged.

That seemed to do it for Preston for a while, because he was silent for the rest of class. When I looked at Magnus, he just shrugged, and then pointed to the note we were passing. I glanced toward Preston, paranoid, and pointed to the teacher and made writing motions into my notebook. Magnus seemed to get it; he nodded, and didn't disturb me again for the rest of class.

It was a relief because, between Magnus and Preston, I was developing an acute fear of getting in trouble when I only wanted to be a good student and blend into the crowd. It was also a little disappointing. . . strangely enough, even though I was scared of Preston and a little intimidated by Magnus's. . . straightforwardness, it had almost felt like I had friends in school. I hadn't had that for a long time.


	4. An Incident, Or Rather, Quite A Few

When the bell rang for recess, I stood up quickly, hoping to find a quiet place to read my letter alone. I was almost to the door, hand expectantly over my pocket-

"Auster! There you are." I felt an arm sling roughly across my soldiers, and I nearly fell over as Magnus pulled me toward him. "Man did I have a time looking for you just then. Was that lesson so boring that you were that desperate for some fresh air?"

I looked around nervously as more kids filed out of the classroom and my chances for private time grew smaller. "Not at all. Mr. Honda teaches geography very well, in fact."

The teacher happened to walk by at that moment and gave me an appreciative nod as he went out the door. I flushed; that certainly wasn't going to help my reputation of being a kiss-up.

Magnus started leading the two of us outside; the two of us seemed to be one unit now. "You know, I couldn't tell if you were saying that for real or if you knew the teacher was right behind you. Which was it?"

"Don't be ridiculous, of course-"

"Hey there, you two," said Preston, popping out from seemingly nowhere with an unnerving smile on his face. A quick check told me he must have been waiting behind the door. What, for us. . .? "Man, you really buddied up quick, did you? Weird, since Auster, you seemed to be the kinda guy who never makes friends."

I tensed. "I can make friends," I protested. I put my hand in my pocket; the papery texture of the letter was a welcome reassurance.

Magnus laughed at me again; then, to my utter dismay, he pinched one of my cheeks and pulled it out. "Look at this guy! He's just the best! You're just jealous I saw him first. I bet you he'll be super popular soon. A few weeks tops."

Preston's face lit up at this and he _walked up close to my face and stared at me_ with his blood-red eyes. "Whoa! I never knew you could do that! Can I try?"

"No, _no,_ you can't!" I struggled out of Magnus's chokehold and backed away from both of them, rubbing my sore cheek. "If the two of you are only here to joke at my expense, then I would much appreciate it if you would leave me in peace."

Preston reached a hand toward me and I slapped at it. "I mean that _mostly_ to you, Preston! Why don't you pick on some other kid for once?"

He chuckled. "Hey, I pay attention to everyone. I see _all_. For example, _you_, new kid." He turned to Magnus and slapped him on the back. "Man, I can't tell if I've never seen your face before, because I can't stop looking at your head. Were you fighting a lion or something?"

I turned away, not wanting to see someone else be bullied. Magnus was rather. . . outgoing, but he seemed to actually be proud of his haircut.

"Oooh, you're saying it looks bad? 'Zat it?"

"Man, you must not have a very good mirror at your house, because from where I'm standing you might have been part of a wood-grinder accident."

Preston flew by my vision, followed shortly by Magnus, who seemed to be trying to push him into the grass. "You got some guts saying that to my face, Whitey!"

I backed slowly away from the two of them as they rolled around in the grass. Two kids nearby, Daniel and his best friend Norman, quickly picked up the Lego pieces they had been playing with just in time to avoid being rolled over.

Norman immediately looked at me. His stares were intense and often accusative, and this time was no different. I opened my mouth to protest my innocence, but thankfully Daniel's frantic shaking of Norman's arm distracted him. "Nor! Nor, look! Look at that! I told you wrestling would go back in vogue!" said Daniel, almost jumping in excitement and scattering Lego pieces everywhere.

Now free of anyone's unwanted attention, I hurried away for a secluded area, just as Norman was saying "You're stupid, Dan, and the things you say are stupid."

I ran all the way to the school gates and leaned against them, exhausted. This school was _insane_. Last week I had only one scary classmate out to get me, and now I also had a weird classmate who was rough and physical and seemed to think I was, as well. And how Daniel managed to interpret his relationship with Norman as friendship was beyond me, even if they had been joined at the hip since day one.

Thankfully, I was finally alone. The gates were ornate but austere, and made kids think of mornings coming to school too late and finding them locked, so it was usually deserted. It was also ideal for me because the school entrance was still clearly visible from here, so I would surely be able to find my way back.

I slipped the letter out of my pocket, heart rushing.

Then let out a distressed sigh.

_Please don't be mad at me. I will be a better friend from now on._

I felt so confused. What had happened between the other letters and this one? Had I ever once given the impression I was angry? I dug through my memories of the weekend, trying to remember if I had ever felt angry at any point during them.

Was he or she talking about correcting my spelling mistake? Perhaps that was it. I had felt a rush of shame when I saw how badly I had misspelled the word, but it wouldn't be fair to be mad about being corrected.

Maybe they were talking about my mother. I slid down the gates and slowly sat down on the paved ground. I did miss my mother. . . but I had volunteered the information. It was sad for me to think about her death, but it was a while ago now, and I had songs to play now when I wanted to feel she was there with me. In fact, it had been a great relief to finally talk about it with someone who wasn't trying to comfort me, or punch me.

I felt a knotting sensation in my chest. When was Hervey going to stop being mad at me?

The bell rang, scattering my thoughts. I folded the letter back up quickly and returned it to my pocket. Kids were filing back inside quickly, but I couldn't help looking among them for Magnus or Preston.

I found them a few feet away from where I'd left them, covered in mud and fiercely pushing each other around. They were still fighting! They kept fighting all through recess!

That was enough for me. Avoiding conflict is one thing, and causing conflict is an entirely different thing. I walked toward them; gingerly, because I didn't want to get dirty. "Stop fighting! Recess is over, we have to get back to class!"

To my surprise, they pulled apart immediately, and both were grinning. Preston slapped Magnus in the back again. "You know, new kid, you're alright."

Magnus punched Preston in the arm. "You don't bruise so easily for a whitey!"

Preston put a hand on his chest. "Of course I don't, because I'm just too awesome."

I wasn't sure what to say. "Magnus, you're not angry that he insulted your hair?"

Magnus scoffed. "Angry, you kidding? It's _supposed_ to look bad, and he's the first person with the guts to say so. I like him."

"Awww, shucks." Preston came up to me and slapped me on the back too; it _hurt_. "Looks like you better shape up, Auster. We might be able to get your hands dirty!"

I pushed him away from me before he could hit me again and ran inside. When Magnus returned to his seat next to me for class, I didn't look at him, or let him elbow me. My arm, cheek, and back were bruised already, and I was not having any more of that.

Mr. Honda led us through Mathematics and Language Arts in his usual meticulous fashion, and I copied down every last word that he said, even the repeated phrases and his needlessly formal word choices.

I didn't want to think of the note pinched underneath my elbow, unread, and I didn't want to think about a possible friend having turned out this way. Magnus wasn't doing anything to me now, but would he start to? He already punched me enough back when he thought I was nice.

I thought about Hervey, and firmed up my resolve. What was the use of letting friends slip away? A good companion couldn't always fall into my lap the way the Ugly Chicklet had.

I packed up my things quickly and rushed out the door when the lunch bell rang. I saw Magnus running after me, and without thinking, I ducked into the boy's bathroom and locked myself in one of the stalls.

I waited a few minutes, but Magnus didn't appear to even try to enter the room.

I looked around the hallway cautiously as I exited nonetheless. There was only Daniel and Norman, walking to lunch late.

"I can't even begin to explain why I don't want to wrestle you on the lawn, Dan."

"That's the spirit, Nor! Ten o'clock tomorrow, bring your swim trunks!"

I made sure to avoid them as well while I walked to the cafeteria. I bought my lunch quickly, squinting through the crowded mess of the student body for Hervey. Before I knew it, I was out of the lunch line with a tray full of fresh cheese. The dish was a mystery to me, but it smelled good, so it would do.

As I was picking up forks and spoons to eat it with, I heard the telltale voice; "There you are! Austrian Bach!"

My lip hurt where I bit it in shock. Thankfully I had rested my tray on the utensil stall, so I didn't drop it all over myself. "My name is Auster, actually."

"Yeah I know, I'm just making fun of you," said Magnus as I swivelled to face him. "Hey, you okay? You've been snubbing me since recess."

"It must be your imagination." I grabbed my tray carefully and moved to an empty seat. I kept looking around the huge room, hoping to see Hervey; still no luck.

"It in't my imagination, cause I know you're snubbing me now too." Magnus slid into the seat beside mine. I started to slide out of my chair, but he put an arm around my shoulders, effectively holding me in place. "Come on, can't you just tell me what's up?"

"Why don't you ask Preston?" My voice shook a little. I never let go of my tray, in case Magnus got any ideas about throwing it around.

"What the heck?"

"He's just a no-good bully, okay?" How could I make Magnus leave without upsetting him? "He has had it out for me since school started. Please either don't be friends with him or leave me alone."

Magnus didn't say anything for a while; then his arm tightened around my neck. I shut my eyes. "Hey," Magnus said, and his voice was surprisingly gentle. I opened my eyes again and looked at him; he looked a little sad, but he was smiling. "You don't gotta be scared of me. Okay? I'd never do anything to hurt you."

I couldn't think of what to say. I hadn't expected someone like Magnus to say things like that. He squeezed his arm tighter, then brought his other arm around to complete the awkward hug. "Preston seems like an okay guy, but if he ever gives you a hard time. . . lemme know, okay?"

Somehow I found my right hand closing over my pocket, where the letter was. Magnus raised an eyebrow, and I nodded. There was something wet on my cheek. . .

Then a few things happened at the same time, and my brain hurt from the mental whiplash.

Someone behind us yelled _"Hey! Get your hands off him! If you beat him up, I'll beat YOU up!"_

I twisted in my seat to see who had spoken while Magnus was trying to untangle his arms from around my body.

The intercom came on, and the student body president's voice said "There's a bloke up in the headmaster's office looking for his kid Magnus. He says to hurry it up because you've got an appointment, and I agree because I've yet to finish my lunch and you're wasting my time!"

Then Magnus and I were on the floor in a tangle of limbs and dirt and traces of steak sauce. Magnus struggled out of me quickly, yelling "That's me! Probably the hairdresser. Gotta go, bye Austria!" and cut quickly through the gathering crowd.

I laid on the floor, dazed. I think I had a piece of spaghetti in my hair. Someone was leaning over me, grabbing my hand. "Idiot! Get off the floor!"

I grasped his hand and he pulled me up. "Hervey," I mumbled. Half of my voice caught in my mouth, unsure if they should come out.

"Stupid Auster! What the hell were you doing with that guy? How many times did I tell you not to hang out with people who will beat you up!" Hervey was brushing down my clothes with a handkerchief, brow furrowed. The crowd started to disperse now that the action was over, many of them sniggering.

"Hervey," I said again, unsure whether to believe it. I grabbed one of his arms. "Hervey, that was Magnus."

"Who the hell is Magnus!" He tossed his handkerchief on the table next to my lunch tray, and the hot food seemed to catch his eye.

"He's. . . he's my new friend." I had to smile. Being able to say that gave me a warm feeling inside. "Thanks all the same, Hervey. Do you want to eat lunch?"

"I already ate lunch," Hervey said, a little took quickly. "Why was your _new friend_ making you cry, then? You're a really bad liar!"

I sat down and pulled him into the now empty chair beside me. "I don't think I cried," I said. "Please eat lunch with me Hervey, I bought a big portion just so I could share with you."

I saw him looking at the cheese dish. He couldn't fool me; he loved cheese, and he seldom bought food from the cafeteria because he found it cheaper to bring lunch from home.

He sighed and grabbed a fork from my tray, and I smiled. It was nice to see that old wall broken down again.

"How's Licha?" I asked him.

"You always ask about Licha. Never about me."

"How are you?"

"Mm." Whatever it was I bought, it had been the right choice. I picked up the other fork and tried some myself; I would have to order it again in the future.

Hervey hadn't spoken to me in years, ever since Licha moved into his house. My memory is awful, so I don't remember the details, but I think he started liking Licha more than me. Something huge must have happened, because he refused to speak to me for the longest time. Because he didn't like me anymore, I used to get mad every time I thought about him, and never tried to make up. . .

It looks like both of us changed our minds today.

After lunch (of which Hervey ate more than half), I started my search for the gym, and for the first time that year, Hervey grabbed my hand and led me in the right direction. It was nice, especially because we had our gym class together.

.

_Dear Ugly Chicklet,_

_I don't know why you're apologising. You haven't done anything wrong. Especially if you're talking about correcting my spelling. It's embarassing that I spelled it wrong, but it's nice of you to tell me instead of letting me keep making the same mistake._

_Familiar is a good thing. We started from 'to whom this may concern' to 'dear.' We're supposed to be friends, and friends are people who aren't afraid to tell each other what they really think, okay?_

_Thank you so so much for the drawing! It's the most beutiful drawing I've ever held in my hands. In case you don't know, from me that means a lot. I have once touched a Picasso piece. So, anyway, as soon as I get home I am going to have your drawing framed and I'm going to put it on top of my piano._

_How did your school day go? Mine was actually very nice. The mean guy in my class is still the same as ever, but I don't think that guy will ever stop picking on me. I made a new friend who promised to protect me, and I even managed to make up with my cousin, who didn't actually say it out loud but also promised to protect me. Actually, I think today was the best day I've had at school._

_I hope you're also meeting new people and making new friends like me. School should be a place you can be happy about going to, not a place you're scared of! Of course, you'll still write to me, even if you become very popular, right? Because no matter how many friends I make at school, I will never stop writing to you._

_Sincerely,_  
_Piano Man._

.

The next day, I carpooled to school with Hervey and Licha. Licha's elementary school was pretty close to our school, so she was with us when I stopped the car in front of the park to pick up the new letter, and got really excited about it when she saw how happy I looked when I read it. Hervey just told me to hurry back into the car, but he didn't bother to disagree with her, which was nice.

When he asked me what it was, I caved and promised to explain it to him later, if he could keep a secret. He turned away from me as he grasped my hand, and I almost couldn't hear his embarrassed "Yes."

.

_Dear Piano Man,_

_It's nice to hear that things are going well for you. You're sure not shy about fluffing up my ego, but if you truly like my drawings, I could send you more in the future, if you want._

_My Monday was acceptable. I might have made a new friend, but for someone like me, it doesn't pay to count my chickens before they're grown. The mean people in my class are the same as ever also, but I don't let that bother me and now I'll tell you why it shouldn't bother you._

_This is another thing my father always told me. The truth is, bullies are also people, even if they're especially mean people. That means they're scared of you even while you're scared of them. That's why they're mean to you in the first place, because if you're scared of them then they don't have to worry about being scared fo you._

_**Don't let them see you're afraid.** Other people can say anything they want to you or about you, or they could even try to fight you. Don't stand down. If you hold your head high and look confident, nothing they do will matter._

_I hope you can make good use of this advice like I do. Us two brave kids will not go through sixth grade as the victim! And you don't have anything to worry about, because I will never stop writing to you until the day comes when I go to that tree and find my own letter in the bottle._

_Sincerely,_  
_An Ugly Chicklet._

* * *

**Tailnotes:** And that is all that I had from before. I don't know how many people have me on alert, but if I was spamming or bothering anyone, I'm sorry. . .

These chapters were split up according to the way they had been portioned originally. New chapters will possibly be a little longer, and less choppily-paced. I hope you enjoyed what you read so far! I'll try my best from now on to give this story justice.


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